Room at the Inn
by Richefic
Summary: When a case leaves the team stranded far from home on Christmas Eve Tony doesn't think things could possibily get any worse.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer - I don't own NCIS, the characters, or the concept of Christmas. Although, I do still have a Christmas pudding in the cupboard that somehow we never got around to eating ..

* * *

Gibbs sighed as he shouldered his way through the crowds thronging the lobby of the small and decidedly budget priced, hotel. Using all the resources at Abby's disposal, this was the fifth place they had tried in the last half hour. Each time they had just lost out. With the Airport closed down it seemed that everyone was looking for a place to stay for the night.

"Hey," Gibbs caught the attention of the harassed looking manager. "We called ahead, Special Agent Gibbs?"

"Ah yes, Agent Gibbs," The manager beamed as he pulled out two keycards. "I've kept our last two rooms for you and your team, anything to help out a fellow Marine."

"You were in the Corps?" Gibbs hid his surprise. The man didn't look like a Marine, but then it could have been a few years.

"Oh no, not me," The man shook his head. "But my Dad was and damned proud of it too. That kind of thing stays in your blood. Although, I gotta tell you, I could have given these away ten times over tonight, what with things being as they are. Here you go, Rooms 217 and 219. One Twin and one Double."

"What?" Gibbs' gaze narrowed.

"Sorry," The man was apologetic but unrepentant. "Those are the only two rooms we have left. It _is_ a King sized bed."

"Fine," Gibbs sighed. "We'll take them."

He had stayed in worse places but not over Christmas and not with his entire team in tow. He looked back over at his people. Kate had given up maintaining any semblance of decorum and was sitting on her suitcase, massaging her aching feet. McGee was talking on his cell, the dark circles under his eyes evident, even from this distance. Standing a little off to one side, DiNozzo had his hands stuffed in his pockets, ruining the line of his expensive suit, his eyes dark and distant.

As he walked over to them, he wished he had better news. For the last two weeks they'd worked almost every hour God sent, living on take out and cat naps to find Baxter before he found his next victim. Their search has dragged them half way across the country. Now with their perp safely behind bars, his people deserved some decent R and R, especially on Christmas Eve.

"I know, I shouldn't say this," DiNozzo spoke without making eye contact, as he surveyed the garish 1970's decor. "But I'm almost hoping there's no room at this Inn."

"Please, don't even think that," Kate begged. "How many Hotels have we tried already? Right now, I just want a place where I can have a hot shower, change my clothes and get something to eat."

"Abby says the fog is beginning to clear," McGee reported as he closed his phone. "The airport is about to re-open but since it has been locked down tight for the last twelve hours, everything is going to be backed up for a couple of days. She's going to try and get us something as soon as possible."

"The good news is we got the last two rooms." Gibbs tried to look positive.

"That's the good news? What's the bad news?" DiNozzo asked warily. "Apart from the fact that we're stuck in a place that makes the middle of no-where look like a friggin metropolis?"

"They've given us one double and one twin." Gibbs admitted.

"I am not sharing a bed with DiNozzo." Kate said at once.

"Aw, don't be like that Katie," Tony waggled his eyebrows at her. "It's not like it would be the first time."

"We were undercover, Tony." Kate reminded him.

"But we were _very_ convincing." He leered.

"Enough," Gibbs snapped. "McGee, you take the twin room with Kate. DiNozzo, you're with me."

Gibbs ignored the various reactions of his Agents as he strode ahead. Kate's smug look rolled straight off DiNozzo, whilst McGee's obvious relief that he wouldn't have to share with his Boss was almost comical. It wasn't the first time he and DiNozzo had shared a rack and he doubted it would be the last.

"What do you think there is to do here?" Tony was asking, as they made their way down the hallway towards their rooms.

"Take a shower?" Kate sniffed pointedly.

"Funny, Kate" Tony rolled his eyes, before looking concerned and making a show of trying to sniff his own armpit. "Bad?"

"They're serving Christmas dinner," McGee offered. "I saw the menu in the Lobby."

"Plastic turkey and soggy sprouts?" Tony shook his head. "I'd rather have Pizza."

"There was that town a couple of miles back,." Kate suggested, "With all these people stranded around here there's bound to be some place still open."

"Negative," Gibbs vetoed that. "We spent so much time looking for a place to stay the rental's only got enough gas to get us back to the airport."

"So, we're just stuck here?" Now Kate sounded as miserable as Tony.

"Have a hot date, Katie?" Tony teased.

"No, just the obviously unreasonable hope that for the first time since I was in College I might actually get to spend the holidays at home with my family," Kate sighed. "I guess I'll just have to settle for a phone call and being glad that our killer is behind bars."

"I've never actually spend Christmas apart from my family before." McGee admitted awkwardly.

"Not ever?" Tony looked surprised.

"No," McGee looked wistful. "Right now, my sister will be decorating the tree, my Mom will be putting the finishing touches to her Honey Roast Ham and my father will be mixing up his secret recipe eggnog."

"Sounds nice." Tony patted his shoulder.

"You could all try getting some shut eye," Gibbs tried to head off the misery, before his Agents got too maudlin.

"You want us to sleep through Christmas?" Tony protested. "Gibbs, nobody sleeps through Christmas."

"Well, everything is pretty much shut down, DiNozzo , what do you suggest that we do?" Gibbs snapped. He knew he was being a bastard, taking his own frustration out on his senior field Agent, his people had worked hard and they deserved a better Christmas than this. But he was damned if he could see a way to deliver.

"We could do Secret Santa." Kate suggested.

"That's a good idea," McGee jumped in, eager for anything which would distract Tony and Kate from sniping at each other or deflect Gibbs from turning his bad mood on him. "We used to do that when I was in College. It was fun."

"Except, I'm sure that it hasn't escaped the well honed observational skills of an investigator of your calibre, _Probie_," Tony stressed the word. "That we are in the middle of no-where and this place doesn't even have so much as a vending machine. What exactly are we supposed to buy?"

"So, we don't buy it, we make it." Kate shrugged.

"And I say again, with what?" Tony pressed.

"Try using your initiative, DiNozzo." Gibbs unexpectedly came to McGee's aid.

It wasn't a bad idea. It would stop Kate and McGee dwelling too much on what they were missing out on back home and, if he handled this right, he might even be able to bring DiNozzo out of his usual Holiday funk. Although, judging by the look of betrayal Tony threw in his direction, he wasn't off to a good start.

"Alright," Kate was getting into the spirit of things. "I'll write everyone's name on a page from my notebook."

"And we can put them in my hat." McGee offered the receptacle.

"I'll go first." Gibbs declared, before DiNozzo could object. He was already watching carefully exactly how Kate was folding the piece of paper with Tony's name on it. He allowed himself a smug smile as he correctly drew out the Italian's name. The first part of his mission successfully completed. Judging by the looks on their faces, Kate was pleased with her recipient, McGee was distinctly nervous and DiNozzo looked like his day had just got even worse.

"Alright, people, go wash up and get some rest. We'll rendezvous in the lobby with our gifts at 19.30 hours." Gibbs ordered.


	2. Chapter 2

AN – Many thanks for all the reviews, I'll try and update this one as regularly as I can.

* * *

Freshly showered and shaved, Tony DiNozzo wandered through the lobby of the small Hotel in search of some kind of inspiration. It wasn't bad enough that they had to do secret Santa stuck here in this shabby and decidedly un-chic Hotel but the universe had really decided to stick it to him and give him the most difficult of all the three possible recipients.

Sticking his head into the small bar, he saw nothing useful. He was about to leave when he noticed a familiar figure sitting at the counter, who didn't look as if he was finding the answers to his questions at the bottom of his glass of Dr Pepper.

"We're off the clock, McGee," Tony observed as he slid into the seat beside him. "You're allowed a little seasonal cheer."

"I know," McGee swirled the remains of his soda around. "I guess, I just don't really feel like celebrating much. I had to call my folks and tell them I wasn't going to make it home for Christmas after all."

"Two beers, please," Tony signalled the barman, ignoring McGee's look of protest and holding his peace, simply sitting with his partner until the two glasses arrived. Then he tipped one of them in McGee's direction. "A toast, to Baxter and putting another piece of slime safely behind bars."

"I guess that is something worth celebrating," McGee acknowledged with a smile, picking up his beer and clinking glasses. "Merry Christmas, Tony."

"Merry Christmas, Probie," DiNozzo took a long swallow of his beer. "And I wouldn't worry too much about not getting home for Christmas. Knowing Gibbs, he'll find a way to get you back to your family before the day is out, if he has to call the President personally to do it."

"What about you?" McGee asked tentatively. He knew Tony didn't spend Christmas with his family but he didn't like to ask for details. "You're welcome to join us?"

"Thanks, Tim." Tony nodded sincerely. "But I already have plans."

"Blonde, Brunette or Redhead?" McGee teased.

Tony grinned enigmatically as he took another swallow of his beer and didn't answer. McGee didn't need to know that his plans actually involved nothing more than dialling for a Pizza and organising his own DVD Christmas Movie Marathon. Usually, he would be working the holiday alongside Gibbs. At the end of their shift, the ex-marine would be the good CO and invite him back to his place for a meal and a drink. That usually turned into two or three drinks and he'd end up staying over. This year their pursuit of Baxter had kept them out of the office. Another team was down to cover the Holiday. Which meant Gibbs would have no reason to ask him back to his place.

"So, who did you get in Secret Santa?" McGee asked.

"It's a 'secret' McGee." Tony reminded him, complete with air quotes.

"Well, I got Kate," McGee admitted. "So, that leaves you with either me or Gibbs."

"McGee, if I'd got you I would have set you up with that cute little blonde right over there given you a Christmas to remember." Tony said fervently.

"It's supposed to be something you've made for me." McGee reminded him.

"Weren't you listening? It would be a date and I would have made it for you," Tony sighed. "Except, don't get your hopes up."

"You got Gibbs?" McGee's sympathised. He couldn't imagine what he would get for Gibbs at the best of times, never mind stuck in a Hotel in the middle of nowhere on Christmas Eve.

"There is no justice in this world, Probie, of course, I got Gibbs," Tony scrubbed at his face. "What are you going to get for Kate?"

"I don't know," McGee admitted. "I'm not even sure what she likes."

"Isn't it obvious? She misses her family, so hook up that handy dandy laptop of yours and point the little webcam thingy in the direction of her folks back home and give her everything her little heart desires."

"Kate has a lap top of her own," McGee reminded him. "What if she's already thought of that?"

"Please," Tony rolled his eyes. "What was she doing when you left the room?"

"Running a bath."

"Of course, she was. Don't you know anything about women, McGee? She hasn't had more than a quick shower for over two weeks and sometimes she's gone days without even that. She won't even get out of the tub for at least an hour and then there's all that exfoliating and pedicures and face masks and body creams. You really imagine she's going to even think about facing her family until she's finished with all that?"

"Good point." McGee conceded. "So, what are you going to get Gibbs?"

"It'll be a surprise," Tony shook his head dolefully. "To the both of us."

It was easy for the others. McGee always had his gizmos and Kate would probably draw something, Gibbs had a knife and a whole forest of woodland out there to carve something. Tony's hobbies were sports and sex and making use of either of those would mostly likely result in certain death at Gibbs' hands.

The first Christmas he had been at NCIS he hadn't figured Gibbs for an exchanging presents kind of guy. Coming in to work the holiday shift, to find a gift bag on his desk had been a surprise. There was no card but, seeing as Gibbs was practically the only other person in the bullpen he didn't have to be much of an investigator to work out where it had come from. He had been touched and embarrassed, crossing over to the ex-Marine's desk with the unopened bag in his hand.

"_Boss, I didn't get you anything."_

Gibbs had looked up and regarded him thoughtfully and Tony had thought of all the things the ex-Marine had done for him since he had joined NCIS and wished he had ignored his shyness, just gone with his gut, and got something for him anyway.

"_The only thing I wanted for Christmas was that bastard, Fraser, behind bars, DiNozzo." Gibbs had nodded at the bag. "You goin' to open that?"_

The black leather wallet was sensible and well made, designed to last. Its price tag was probably a fraction of the cost of the designer one he had ruined the previous week by following Fraser down into those storm drains to arrest him. It was still one of Tony's most prized possessions.

He thought wistfully of the carefully chosen gift sitting on his coffee table back home. With all the resources of the modern consumer lifestyle at his disposable it had still taken him weeks to come up with something that he knew Gibbs would actually appreciate. Now he had a matter of hours to think of something and he had to make it himself.

Finishing his beer, he left McGee to work on his webcam project and wandered into the small restaurant. Even if he didn't already think that playing a song would be too much like one of Gibbs' precious recordings of his daughters recitals, this place didn't even have a piano.

He remembered making a coffee mug once but, that required clay and a kiln and glazes rather longer than a few hours. And even then his father had never actually used his efforts which had sat gathering dust at the back of the kitchen pantry. Sinking down into an empty chair, Tony watched listlessly as the waitresses set the tables. More than one of them smiled at him but for once he wasn't in the mood for flirting.

He knew Gibbs wouldn't particularly care about the gift itself. But he would expect his people to show some degree of ingenuity. He was the senior field Agent. He had been on Gibbs' team the longest. He should be setting the standard.

There was nothing he hated more than letting Gibbs down.

Scrubbing his hand over his face, he suddenly stopped, peering between his two fingers as he focused on what the restaurant staff were actually doing. Straightening up, he narrowed his eyes as inspiration struck. With a sudden grin he jumped to his feet and strode purposefully over to reception, seeing exactly what he wanted on a shelf behind the pretty, blonde, receptionist.

"Excuse me," He peered at her nametag. "Melissa, could I possibly have a piece of that cream paper?"

"Sure." She smiled prettily at him and handed over a single sheet.

Tony thanked her and turned away. He had gone about four strides when he paused. Turning on his heel he pasted on his most charming expression as he approached the desk again. Melissa positively beamed at his approach.

"On second thoughts," Tony made an apologetic face. "I might need more than one piece."


	3. Chapter 3

AN – And the prize for guessing what Tony was going to do with the paper .. goes to .. well, you'll see. I wouldn't want to spoil it for you.

* * *

At 19.30 hours exactly Gibbs wandered into the small dining room to find two of his Agents already seated. Sitting himself down, he looked pointedly at the remaining empty place as he asked the obvious question.

"Where's DiNozzo?"

"I don't know," Kate looked around. "I thought he was with you?"

"He was in the bar," McGee piped up. "He bought me a drink. But that was about four hours ago."

Gibbs frowned. DiNozzo had known they were eating at 19.30 hours and there were only a few reasons he would be a no show and none of them boded well for his senior field Agent. Gibbs actually hoped it was a woman, because the alternative meant that either Tony had found trouble, or it had found him. Fishing out his cell he prepared to make a call, only to see a familiar figure, carrying a small bag, hastening across the restaurant.

"You're late, DiNozzo." Gibbs greeted him.

"Sorry, Boss. Lost track of the time," Tony brushed it off. "Have you guys ordered?"

"Not yet." McGee spoke up.

"Shall we eat or open our presents first?" Kate wondered, eying the small bag with open curiosity.

"Eat," Tony was already reaching for the menu. "I'm starving."

"Presents," McGee chimed in, after what Tony had been saying earlier, he was also eager to see what was in the bag.

"We'll order now," Gibbs took charge. "And do the gifts while we wait for the food to arrive."

It only took a few minutes to take care of their order. Both Gibbs and Tony decided to forgo the festive fare and have steaks. For form's sake Tony made a good enough show of flirting with the waitress for Kate to roll he eyes and McGee to look slightly envious. In truth, he felt sick to his stomach and he really hoped Gibbs couldn't tell how nervous he was about this whole gift giving thing.

He was genuinely pleased that McGee's lap top web cam link up was such a success. Kate laughed and cried at seeing her family and McGee went pink with pleasure at her effusive thanks. In return, she gave him a slightly predicable portrait of him with Abby. Although, the adoring look she had drawn on Abby's face was more than enough to satisfy McGee.

"Your turn, Gibbs." Kate encouraged.

"Can't," Gibbs shook his head. "Its not here yet."

"Not here?" McGee queried.

"You were supposed to make it, Gibbs." Kate pointed out.

"What I made was a call," Gibbs' shrugged. "Buddy of mine is going to drop DiNozzo's present off in a few."

"Please tell me you didn't get me a puppy." Tony worried.

"Not a chance. Haven't got you fully house broken yet." Gibbs smirked.

"That's cheating." Kate spluttered.

"Nope," Gibbs took a long draw of his coffee. "That's using your initiative."

"Fine," Kate huffed slightly. "Tony, that just leaves you."

"It's nothing really," Tony excused his gift, making no effort to nudge it across the table towards the ex-marine. "You should probably just wait until we get back to DC, Boss and I can give you your real present. You don't want this."

Gibbs sighed. He supposed he should have seen this coming. DiNozzo was always worrying too much about repaying him for noticing he was alive. Over the last two years he'd thought he'd managed to cure him of trying so hard but the Holidays still brought out his insecurities.

"You let me be the judge of that." Gibbs reached over and picked up the bag.

It was lighter then he expected. Curious now, he prised open the top, acutely aware of the twin looks of anticipation on Kate and McGee's faces and the far too casual way DiNozzo was sitting, his eyes sharp with anxiety as they followed his every move, his fingers drumming silently on his thigh, as he sat absolutely still in his chair. Reaching carefully in with finger and thumb Gibbs, very gently, lifted out the fragile little item and placed it carefully on the table.

"Is that a .. swan?" McGee guessed.

The little origami bird was not exactly a work of art. One wing was slightly higher than the other. The neck was decidedly skewed to the left, giving the whole thing a rather lop-sided appearance and the tail feathers were a little ragged.

"You made _that_?" Kate sounded very much like she was trying not to laugh.

"Yeah," Tony's defeated tone earned him a sharp look from Gibbs and a sympathetic glance from McGee. "Obviously, not very well."

"Oh, I don't know," McGee tried to be encouraging. "It's very .. unique."

As they watched the little cream paper swan wobbled and tipped over onto its side, resting precariously on one slightly dented wing. McGee bit his lip worriedly. He knew how anxious Tony had been about this gift. Now Kate was laughing openly and Gibbs had yet to say a word. Beside him, Tony made a guttural noise of disgust, half rising out of his chair, as he reached out an open hand obviously intending to crush the little swan in his fist, only to have Gibbs hand flash out and catch his wrist before he could touch it.

"Don't." His tone brooked no argument as he used his other hand to set the little swan carefully back upright.

"Gibbs." Tony argued anyway.

Gibbs opened his mouth to say something but before the ex-marine could respond, his cell started to ring. His expression darkened visibly at the unwanted interruption, but his sense of duty won out and he let go of DiNozzo's wrist and reached into his pocket for his cell.

"Gibbs."

He listened for a few moments with an unreadable expression, whilst his team watched anxiously, all hoping that whatever else the call might be, it wasn't a case. Only, to exchange even more mystified glances, when Gibbs face broke into a broad grin.

"That's good work, Abs."

Snapping his phone shut, he didn't keep his Agent's in suspense as he pocketed his cell. "Kate, McGee. Grab you gear. You're going home."

"What!" Kate looked ecstatic, before jumping to her feet and grabbing her handbag, dinner completely forgotten.

"Really? That's terrific," McGee beamed, then frowned. "Um, what about you guys?"

"There's only three seats." Gibbs began. "I thought we could .."

"That's OK. We don't have to draw straws or anything. You take it, Boss," Tony heard himself saying. His was pretty pleased at how normal his voice sounded. Most people didn't realise how much good undercover work relied on smoke and mirrors. Most of the time all you had to do was reflect what the other person was expecting to see anyway. It was easy with strangers. It was almost impossible with a man who knew him as well as Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Often, the best trick was to just keep talking. "I know how much Abby wanted you to get back for her Christmas party. Think of it as your real present."

"DiNozzo," For a moment, Gibbs looked like he was about to say something, then he changed his mind and turned his attention back to the rest of his team. "Abby's found a cab heading for the Airport. It's leaving in ten." When Kate and McGee continued to hesitate looking between him and Tony with anxious expressions he raised his voice slightly. "Well? What are you waiting for? Go!"

"Merry Christmas, Tony," Kate didn't need telling twice, with a quick kiss on his cheek, she was already heading off to collect her luggage, pulling out her cell to call her family as she went. "Hey, Mom, it's me. You'll never guess what .."

"Tony." McGee hovered.

"Don't sweat it, Probie," Tony brushed off his concern. "Maybe, I'll make a date with that blonde after all. Go home. Spend time with your family."

"Right," McGee nodded, still not convinced but at a loss to know what else to say. "Merry Christmas, Tony."

He stuck out his hand, a little awkwardly. Would Tony ridicule him for the formal gesture? Would he turn it into some kind of Fraternity secret handshake? Even after months of working with him McGee found Tony impossible to predict. The man could be beyond annoying, juvenile, petty and very occasionally, dark with a soft menace that genuinely scared him. Then there were the times when he deliberately stepped up to protect one of his team mates from Gibbs, wrath, shared his knowledge and experience like he wasn't doing McGee a favour, or like now, used the grip to pull McGee into a hug, patting his back twice, before letting go.

"Merry Christmas, Tim," Tony hesitated, casting a quick half-glance in the direction of the ex-marine. "Boss."

Before Gibbs could respond the former homicide detective had already turned sharply on his heel, not sure that he could bear to hear anything that Gibbs might have to say. Knowing that the ex-marine would have to head to their room to pick up his bags, he decided to make himself scare until they had all left for the airport. Following the signs for the tiny ands ill-equipped gym he wasn't surprised to find the place deserted. Most people had better things to do with their time on Christmas Eve. Deciding he would rather die than run the risk of running into Gibbs by going to pick up his workout clothes, he stripped off shoes, socks, tie and jacket, before rolling up his sleeves and un-tucking his shirt.

He'd prefer a punching bag, but given the fog and the freezing temperatures the single running machine would just have to do. Dialling up its most strenuous programme, he started to run and run, feeling the sweat build up between his shoulder blades and under his armpits, running down his brow until his eyes stung with tears and his muscles protested.

God, he hated Christmas and Halloween and Thanksgiving and pretty much any holiday really where you were supposed to play happy families. That thought pushed him onwards, willing his body into ever-greater exertions as he forced his mind to forget, deliberately trying to lose himself in the relentless, repetitive, effort. Shoulders aching now, legs burning, back and chest soaked with sweat and still he could remember every single moment of every Christmas he wanted to forget. Striding forward with renewed effort he tried to force himself into oblivion.

"_DiNozzo!_" Gibbs best parade ground bellow jerked him back to awareness. "I said that's _enough_!"


	4. Chapter 4

Tony blinked himself back to awareness as the ex-marine's fist slammed down on the board in front of him, bringing the machine to a shuddering halt, bright blue eyes blazing at him.

"Boss," Tony panted, wondering when had it got so hard to talk? "I thought .. you left."

Gibbs' expression registered a flash of something that, in his exhausted state, was too swift for DiNozzo to notice, before the ex-marine looked down, his eyes narrowing into icy slits.

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you?"

Following his gaze, Tony realised that his soles were bleeding and swollen, his bare feet torn to shreds. Why hadn't he felt any of that? And judging by Gibbs impatient bellow it hadn't been the first time the ex-marine had tried to attract his attention. Why hadn't he heard him? Just how long had he been running?

Not waiting for his answer, Gibbs all but hauled him across the room, leaving a trail of bloody footprints left in their wake. As he was desposited on the bench Tony looked up and tried, unsuccessfully, to make eye contact.

"Boss," He bit his lip. "I'm sorry."

"Stay put."

The terse command, coupled with the ex-marine's abrupt departure left Tony feeling bereft. As his endorphin high faded his various physical hurts started to make themselves known, adding to hisl misery and emotional pain. He had really screwed up this time. What _had_ he been thinking? Gibbs hadn't abandoned _him._ He had been the one who had _volunteered_ to stay behind. Even if Gibbs had left, he would simply have been taking him up on his offer. Which meant there was no way to justify his reaction.

And to make matters worse, now he wouldn't be fit for field duty for at least a week. He'd barely be able to stand, never mind chase down a suspect. It would mean a reprimand in his file and whatever disciplinary action Gibbs chose to meter out for deliberately making himself unfit for duty. Kate and McGee would both want to know how he had ended up on desk duty and the Director would have to be told.

God, it was a mess.

"Maybe, I should just shoot myself now." He said out loud.

"Don't you think you've done enough damage for one day?" Gibbs voice made him start, sounding as coldly furious as Tony had ever heard him. The younger man winced in anticipation of the head slap to follow.

It didn't come.

Tony watched as Gibbs set down a first aid kit and put a bottle of water and a bottle of pills within his reach. Meekly, he took the pills without any of his usual protests as Gibbs began pulling out iodine and bandages. It took several minutes to clean and wrap his bleeding feet. Tony tried not to move, biting the inside of his cheek against the smarting pain.

"I'm sorry, Boss," Tony felt the need to break the oppressive silence. "I'm an idiot."

"You just working that out now, DiNozzo?" Gibbs' tone was clipped.

Unexpectedly, Tony felt the smart of tears behind his eyes at the caustic tone. His relationship with Gibbs had had its ups and downs, but much of it was for show. In the past two years Tony could count on one hand the number of times Gibbs had been truly pissed at him. And right now he was downright furious. As Gibbs busided himself packing away the equipment he tried desperately to think of something to say to make this better.

For once, he couldn't think of anything.

Embarrassed, he did his best to support as much of his own weight as he could, as Gibbs helped him hobble back to his room, clenching his jaw tight each time his abused feet made contact with the thin carpet. By the time the ex-marine settled him on the edge of the bed, he was desperately looking around for a way to avoid Gibbs wrath.

"Thanks, Boss," He tried. "I can take it from here."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Gibbs challenged.

"Um," Tony furrowed his brow as he tried to work out just how much more trouble he might have managed to get into today. "Probably?"

"This is my room, too." Gibbs reminded him.

"But Kate and McGee .." Tony protested.

"Manger already let their room to a young couple. Wife is pregnant, due any time now. So, unless you want to see if there's a stable anyplace around here?" Gibbs was at his most sarcastic.

"Oh," Tony swallowed hard, casting around for alternative ways to stay under Gibbs radar. He couldn't take a shower without getting his bandages wet. And he couldn't go out for a walk without help. Since it didn't look like Gibbs was planning on going anywhere soon there was only one thing for it. "Maybe, I'll just take a nap."

"You do that."

Almost as soon as he said it Tony realised that there was no way he was going to be able to get himself under the covers without getting to his feet. Although, the room was heated, it _was_ late December and the temperature was distinctly chilly. His rapidly cooling muscles would seize up if they got too cold. Glancing across at Gibbs' he realised the ex-marine had taken up a position by the window, his back stiff and straight as he looked out into the darkness.

"Um, Boss?" He asked tentatively.

"Save it, DiNozzo," Gibbs spoke without turning, his tone unaccountably weary. "Get some rest. We'll talk later."

"Right." Tony sighed.

If he had been alone he would simply have swung his feet up and pulled the covers across himself from the other side of the King sized bed. As it was, he would rather freeze to death than give Gibbs yet another reason to be pissed at him by stealing his blankets. Realising that there was nothing else for it, he resigned himself to the inevitable and lifted his feet up, settling himself as best as he could on top of the covers and closed his eyes, desperately willing sleep to come.

Gibbs waited for as long as it took for DiNozzo's breathing to even out into sleep before pulling out his phone. Given the emotional and physical trauma of the last few weeks and hours, it took longer than he expected. But since when did DiNozzo ever do anything the easy way? Flipping open his cell he dialled the one person who might be able to help him make some sense of this mess.

"Duck, am I such a bastard?"


	5. Chapter 5

AN - Apologies to all those who think I've fallen off the face of the earth. RL has been manically busy and although I thought I had this story all written - you know how it is you come back to something after a break and start thinking that could be better or I could do that differently which calls for re-writes and more delays. Sorry. I am not abandoning the story but I'm not yet happy with the next chapter and don't know how much time I'll have to write this week, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to be patient as I'd rather not post anything less than my best.

* * *

"Well Jethro," In the background Gibbs, could hear the sounds of Abby's Christmas party receding as the MD found a quieter spot to talk. "That rather depends on the circumstances. Sometimes, such as your recent treatment of Baxter, your behaviour is completely understandable."

"Slime ball killed three kids and almost took McGee out with an axe," Gibbs was unrepentant. "He's lucky I only busted his knee."

"Quite," Mallard agreed. "However, I seriously doubt that this crisis of conscience has anything to do with our suspect. And as I have it on good authority that Catlin and Timothy are safely on their way home, this must be about young Anthony."

"Isn't it always, Duck?" Gibbs sighed. "There were only three seats on the plane. DiNozzo _told_ me to take the last one. Then he cut his feet to ribbons, running himself half to death on the treadmill thinking I'd gone ahead and left him behind."

"Oh my," Mallard worried. "That poor boy."

"How do I fix it, Duck?" Gibbs got straight to the point.

"I'm not sure you can, since you are not actually the cause of the problem," Mallard spoke gravely. "We both know where the blame lies."

"His father." Gibbs' tone was cold.

"A man who actually managed to leave the boy behind on at least one occasion that we know of," Mallard agreed. "Those kinds of scars don't heal easily."

Gibbs clenched his jaw. Scars or not, after two years on his team DiNozzo should know better than to believe he would treat him like that. He was a marine he didn't leave his people behind.

"Don't be too hard on him, Jethro," The MD read his mind. "No doubt, as soon as he is thinking clearly, Anthony will be eaten up with guilt for even thinking you could be anything like his father. What he needs right now is to know that you can forgive his transgression. Most of all he needs to learn that he can 'screw up' as he would say and still be loved."

"Any suggestions, Duck?" Gibbs asked, as he turned on his heel to check on his erstwhile Agent. "I'm not exactly ... aw crap."

Snapping his cell shut without another word Gibbs strode over to the bed, his face furrowing into a frown as he noted the thin tremors that shook DiNozzo's body as he curled in on himself, desperately seeking the warmth that his thin shirt and suit pants couldn't provide. Why the hell hadn't the younger man burrowed under the covers?

Letting his gaze track from the ex-detectives' face down to his feet Gibbs worked out the answer to his own question. Standing up to pull back the covers would have been excruciating and like most Hotel beds the sheets and blankets were tucked too tightly to just wriggle under. But he was at a loss to understand why the younger man hadn't simply asked for his help.

Thinking back, he realised that maybe Tony had tried and he had been too busy being a self-centred bastard to notice. So much for not being anything like the Italian's father. He looked down at the fitfully sleeping man.

"What am I going to do with you, DiNozzo?"

When Tony woke it was much later, the weak moonlight spilling through the drapes and illuminating the garish wallpaper and cheap furniture. The first thing he was aware of was his injured feet as his wounds throbbed in time to his pulse. Then the hollow ache in his stomach as his body protested the long hours since he had last eaten. Shifting slightly in the bed he suddenly realised that he was now warmly dressed in a long sleeved tee and sweats and tucked under a mound of blankets.

For a second he indulged in the fantasy that the female Swedish mud wrestling team had just happened to be passing and taken pity on him. Anything was better than the starkly obvious truth. Not quite wanting to believe it, he risked a peek under the covers, lowering them sharply when he saw the unmistakeable legend NIS emblazoned across his chest.

Gibbs had_ put him to bed._

Tony closed his eyes. He was supposed to be a highly trained Federal Agent, instinctively aware of his surroundings, alert to the slightest hint of danger. It was one thing to trust Gibbs enough to watch his six whilst he slept, it was quite another that the man had apparently been able to undress him like a sleepy toddler and tuck him back in without so much as rousing him.

How was he ever supposed to face Gibbs after that?

"Quit faking," As Tony reluctantly cracked one eye very slightly open a figure detached itself from the shadows and switched on a lamp by the desk, its soft glow giving him a chance to readjust to the blossoming light as Gibbs stepped up to his bedside. "We both know you're awake."

"Hey Boss," Tony did his best to sound upbeat, unwilling to meet Gibbs' eyes he looked around for something, else to focus on, his gaze landing on the table set for two, a room service trolley standing sentry. "You have a hot date?"

"You missed dinner." Gibbs reminded him.

Tony shifted slightly uncomfortably in the bed. It wasn't as if this was the first time his Boss had taken care of him when he was injured but usually he had been hurt on the job, doing the right thing, not just because he was an idiot.

"I thought you were mad?" He ventured.

"You got that right."

"So," Tony looked up. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful, but why are you being so nice to me?"

"You think I should just let you starve?" Gibbs gave him a look.

Tony looked away, knowing that the ex-marine wouldn't appreciate his instinctive answer. The man should be tearing a strip off him not worrying about whether he was eating right. He prided himself on being able to read the ex-marine better than most people but sometimes he didn't get Gibbs at all.

"Not exactly starve," He hedged. "Maybe, just some of those Tofu things Kate likes to torture us with."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, before shaking his head. He opened his mouth to say something, before apparently changing his mind. Instead, he strode over to the window and plucked the overflowing trash basket from behind the drapes, before emptying the crumpled pieces of cream paper all over the bed.

Tony felt like his insides had been hollowed out with a blunt spoon as all the air fled from his lungs. Gibbs wasn't supposed to know how hard it had been to make a single stupid paper swan. But he had been late for dinner and had decided that hiding the trash basket behind the drapes would do until he could return to dispose of the evidence. Some crime scene investigator he was, he couldn't even cover his own tracks. And now Gibbs could see exactly how pathetic his efforts had been.

"How many did you make?" Gibbs asked.

"I had a few tries at it," Tony tried to defend himself. He already felt bad enough that he hadn't been able to get it right straight off, he wasn't sure he could handle Gibbs rubbing his nose it in that on top of everything else. "My fingers aren't as small as they were last time I tried and I couldn't exactly remember all the folds right."

"Yeah?" Gibbs seemed genuinely curious. "Who taught you?"

"One of our housekeepers," Tony explained. "She would fold up the napkins to make table decorations when my father had business contacts for dinner. I used to watch her for hours. Turning a flat piece of material into birds and animals, it seemed like some kind of magic. At least, it did when she did it. Look, Gibbs, I swear your real present is much better."

"Oh, I don't know," Gibbs favoured him with a rare fond look. "I think I'm looking at my real present, right here."

"That?" Tony looked at the piles of crumpled paper and then back at him like he was crazy. "Gibbs, that's just a pile of garbage."

"You think?" Gibbs picked up one of the numerous aborted swans by a single twisted wing. "How long did all these take you?"

"I'm not sure," Tony hedged, sighing as Gibbs waited implaccable. "A few hours."

"That's a good job, Tony."

The soft, proud, smile, Gibbs bestowed on him, had him ducking his head bashfully. So, he had spend all afternoon in here, painstakingly folding and refolding the pieces of paper, until he got it as close to perfect as the time and his memory allowed. And, maybe he could have been sitting at the bar, enjoying his first downtime in two weeks and chatting up the waitresses but he'd wanted to get this right.

Amazingly, it seemed like he actually had.

"So, you're not mad?" Tony blinked.

"Oh, I'm still mad, DiNozzo," Gibbs assured him. "Just not at you."

"Really?" Tony's initial reaction was elation. He had screwed up. To be let off the hook was amazing, incredible .. and completely wrong. He made a face. "Maybe you should be, Boss."


	6. Chapter 6

AN - Many thanks as always for caring enough to review. It does keep me writing when its tempting to think I don't really need another call on my time. I am doing my best not to be frustrating for the sake of .. but this chapter was totally different in the orginal version and this twist has added at least two more chapters to the story so I hope you will see that as some recompense for the delays. I have a day off on Thurs so next chapter on Friday. I promise.

* * *

Gibbs looked at him for a long moment. On the job Tony could read Gibbs like a book but when it came to personal stuff the ex-marine was something of an enigma. Just when he thought he had his Boss figured out the man would surprise him. Right now he had no idea what to expect. Uncomfortable with that thought he squirmed just a little under that penetrating gaze, wincing as the inadvertent movement jarred his feet. Without a word, Gibbs fished a bottle of pills out of his pocket and tipped two into his palm, waiting until Tony had obediently taken them, crunching them between his teeth and simply ignoring the bitter taste with the ease of long practise.

"You _want_ me to be mad at you?" Gibbs asked at last.

"No, but I don't want you to be not mad at me for the wrong reasons," Tony tried to explain. He made a face. "Did that make any sense?"

"Not really." Gibbs admitted.

"You're a Marine, Gibbs. You don't leave your people behind," Tony clarified. "I've worked with you long enough. I should have realised that."

"Yeah, you should have. So, why didn't you?"

Despite his best efforts, Tony could feel the blush creeping up his neck and across his cheeks, burning the tips of his ears, even as he looked away, desperate to avoid Gibbs' scrutiny. The ex-marine was all about family and responsibility, how could he even begin to explain something like this?

"This have to do with the time your father left you behind for two days at the Maui Hilton?" Gibbs spoke.

Tony's first reaction was one of pleased surprise. He hadn't thought Gibbs was paying all that much attention. Plus, it had been months ago and it wasn't like it had had anything to do with the case. He wasn't even sure the others had believed him. The fact that the ex-marine had remembered meant something.

On the other hand, his Boss was now waiting for an answer. And in the cold light of day Tony's reaction to his apparent departure seemed way out of line. There was no good way to explain to the ex-marine that his feelings that been hurt without looking like a whiney kid rather than a senior field Agent.

"On second thoughts," Tony tried to evade the topic. "We could just go back to you being mad at me."

"It happen more than once?" Gibbs was matter of fact.

Tony shook his head and didn't answer. He knew better than to think Gibbs would just let this go. The man investigated things for a living. It was in his blood. But Tony wasn't ready to admit that being left behind was pretty much a constant in little Anthony DiNozzo's life. That he had never a priority in his parents' lives. That most of his numerous step-mothers had barely even acknowledged his existence. That his whole personality was based on a desperate need to be noticed, valued, maybe even loved.

"Aw hell, DiNozzo." Gibbs muttered, as if his silence was an answer, which in some ways maybe it was.

"Sorry, Boss." Tony didn't know what else to say.

"Hey!" The sharp tone took him by surprise and he glanced up, eyes wide to see Gibbs expression dark with anger. "Don't you dare apologise."

"Right, sign of weakness." Tony amended quickly.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs clenched both his fists as he struggled to keep his patience. "You _do not_ have to apologise for what that man did. None of that was your fault."

"Kinda always felt like it was, Boss." Tony admitted quietly.

Gibbs bit back his sigh. Of course it had. Belatedly Gibbs realised Ducky had been right, as always. It would take more than a couple of years to undo the kind of damaged cause by years of casual neglect. It was just as well that Gibbs was in this for the long haul.

"You should eat something," Gibbs offered the only comfort he could right now, crossing over to the table and lifting one of the silver domes to reveal a square pizza box. As he moved back towards the bed, he smiled inwardly at DiNozzo's pleased surprise as he took in the familiar logo. "Pretty much stone cold by now."

"Just the way I like it," Tony enthused. If the pizza were already cold that would also explain why he hadn't smelt it. Who would have thought they even had Pizza delivery out here in the boondocks, never mind favourite brand? "I can't believe you tracked this down, Boss."

"Just followed a lead." Gibbs was nonchalant.

"It's a pizza, Gibbs. Not a suspect," Tony shook his head with a grin. "You called McGee and got him to look up the location of all the franchises in the area on his PDA, didn't you?"

"Why McGee?" Gibbs asked, his eyes narrowing. "Why not Abby?"

"Because nobody died," Tony offered confidently around a blissful mouthful of cold congealed cheese and sausage. "And you wouldn't pull Abby away from her beloved Christmas party if it wasn't important."

Gibbs turned his back and busied himself sliding his own stone cold fries in to trash and slapped his steak between a bread roll before asking.

"You don't think you're important?"

Tony froze a second slice of pizza already halfway to his mouth. In the reflection from the motel window Gibbs could see his eyes widen and his jaw drop slightly at the positive endorsement. Slowly he lowered the pizza down and Gibbs could almost see how frantically as he was thinking as he tried to come up with a response his Boss would accept.

"If I'd been kidnapped, bitten by a snake, chained to a serial killer or any of the other fun things that can happen in the course of an average day at NCIS. But not just to provide me with a nutritious breakfast."

"Its the middle of the dammed night, DiNozzo," Gibbs felt compelled to point out, as he bit into his sandwich. He didn't even bother with the nutritious part. On balance, pizza probably _was _healthier than the sugary kid's cereal DiNozzo usually favoured.

"And I just woke up," Tony shrugged, as he began to eat again, apparently satisfied that he had successfully deflected Gibbs attention from their previous, somewhat awkward, conversation. "Which makes this my breakfast."

Gibbs wasn't about to give up that easily. Throwing the barely touched sandwich into the trash he crossed the room, his hand flashed out and caught Tony's wrist, just before he took another bite. His lips frozen in the act of wrapping around the pizza, Tony looked up at him, his eyes wide.

"Boss?"

"Thought I'd already made myself clear on this, DiNozzo?" Gibbs let his wrist go, as he pinned him with his gaze.

"Boss?" If anything Tony looked more confused.

"The White case?" Gibbs raised a brow.

"Thought that was just a joke, Boss," Tony shrugged, a little too casually. "You were just messing with McGee's head."

_And mine. _

Gibbs ground his teeth in frustration. He had meant the joke as a lesson for McGee. Back then he had wanted to keep him off balance, it had been important for the kid to understand that a few successful consults wasn't enough to make him part of the team. He'd know for a long time that Tony needed his affection and approval. But it had remained pretty much unspoken. Actions, gestures, not words between them. It had taken been drugged, kidnapped and almost killed – God, Gibbs still went cold when he remembered Tony putting himself in the line of fire to protect Atlas – for the younger man to actually voice his feelings.

"You ever know me to say anything I don't mean?"

"All the time."

Gibbs shook his head. Only DiNozzo. He has his own rules and he'd do whatever it took to get the job done. But he was always straight with his people. Always. And DiNozzo knew that. Reaching out, he whapped him smartly across the back of the head.

"So, next time you tell me you're going to break my fingers I should actually believe you?" Tony mocked slightly.

A hint of amusement hovered on Gibbs lips for an instant, acknowledging the point with a wry tip of his head. On the job, Tony was able to read him better than any of his previous Agents, anticipating his orders and interpreting a raised brow as if whole conversations had taken place. It left Gibbs at a loss to understand why when it came to his place in the ex-marine's affections DiNozzo could still be so dammed clueless. His father had a lot to answer for. Which reminded him.

"You want your Christmas present now?"

"It's here?" Tony's face lit up.

"Uh huh," Gibbs grinned in anticipation as he crossed the room and retrieved a small rectangular package wrapped in plain brown paper. He watched indulgently as Tony tore into it with excited glee, watching his expression closely as he revealed the shiny, coloured brochure and read the wording on the front cover.

And all the under cover training in the world wasn't enough to disguise how abruptly Tony's face fell and he went visibly pale.


	7. Chapter 7

Gibbs' eyes narrowed as he took in the pale features and pinched look. As Tony raised anxious eyes to meet his gaze the ex-marine fought to keep his expression neutral. In the past two years, he had seen DiNozzo in all kinds of danger and he had never seen him look like this. He had seen DiNozzo nervous, anxious, over eager, full of barvardo but never scared. Not one time.

"What?" He asked simply.

Tony pressed his lips together, as he considered his answer. He trusted Gibbs more than anyone he had ever met. In the past two years the ex-marine had proved he was a man of his word, someone who could be relied upon to watch your six and always repaid his people's loyalty ten fold. He was a good man who had loved his family and if working with Gibbs these past two years had taught Tony anything it was that not everything his father had ever said about him was true.

"It's a campsite." He tried to explain.

"Wilderness centre," Gibbs corrected. "Old buddy of mine from the Corps runs the place not far from here."

Gibbs hadn't thought it was possible for Tony to get any paler. He had been wrong about that. For his part, DiNozzo hadn't thought things could possibly get any worse. It had been bad enough when he'd thought it would be just him and Gibbs out in the wilderness, getting caught into the middle as his Boss got into a pissing contest with another ex-marine was so not his idea of fun.

"But we'd have to camp?"

"You have a problem with that?" Gibbs asked mildly.

"You know me, Boss. I'm an en-suite bathroom kind of guy. "I like my Egyptian cotton sheets and my down pillows. Canvas and mud, doesn't really do it for me. Besides, its December, no one camps in December."

Gibbs tipped his head on one side. Despite his privileged upbringing DiNozzo had never been one to obsess about personal comfort, not when there was a job to be done. Gibbs had seen him sleep in any number of uncomfortable places and positions, watched him throw himself and his expensive suit in front of a wave to preserve a crime scene and chased suspects through sewers without a second thought. There was definitely something else going on here.

"Try again." Gibbs instructed.

"Boss, it's _camping_," Tony insisted. "Sleeping on rocks and ants, eating half cooked food, spending nights freezing half to death and days under the burning sun and crapping in a bucket, what's to like?"

"You even read that thing?" Gibbs waved his hand at the brightly coloured brochure. The centre had lakes and water sports, fishing, climbing, horse back riding, a shooting range, all kinds of activities that he had thought the athlete and Agent in DiNozzo would enjoy.

Tony made a show of flicking through the brochure. It was bad enough that the centre was run by one of Gibbs' old marine buddies, who would probably take one look at him and wonder why the Gunny was wasting his time with a New England cop born with a silver spoon in his mouth. But now with his injuries he didn't have a hope of keeping up with Gibbs on the hiking trails or obstacle course.

"You go on," He decided. "Catch up with your buddy. I'll be fine here. I can watch pay per view and order room service."

"I look like your father, DiNozzo?" Gibbs demanded. He wasn't sure what was going on here but he had no intention of leaving the younger man to his own devices. To his mind DiNozzo had spent too dammed much of his life alone. "You don't want to do this, we can both stay here, or you can tell me what you really want."

"Boss?" Tony blinked.

Gibbs had wanted to share something with the younger man that he had enjoying doing with his father, but it was obvious that he had unwittingly touched a raw nerve. A very raw and painful nerve if Tony's haunted expression was any indication. Gibbs wasn't sure what had put that look on his senior field Agent's face but he sure as hell wasn't going to be the cause of it staying there. He reached forward and plucked the brochure out of DiNozzo's un-protesting hands ripping it decisively in two he dropped it in the trash as Tony watched, his eyes wide. Then he sank down on the bed beside him.

"What do you want, Tony?"

The sincerity in that offer shamed the younger man. His father had never given a damn what he wanted, disinheriting him at age twelve and effectively washing his hands of him once he finished college and chose law enforcement over the family business. Gibbs wasn't his Dad. He'd taught Tony everything he knew about being an NCIS Agent. The ex-marine was a good man, he wouldn't take Tony someplace just to humiliate him. He had picked this because he had figured he would actually like it. Tony bit his lip. He owed Gibbs so much, the least he could do was try and be a little grateful.

"We can do this, Boss."

The slap to the back of his head was a wake up call. Gibbs was a demanding Boss, but he had never expected DiNozzo to follow him blindly, his standards were high but he had always encouraged his senior field Agent to speak up, to contribute his opinions and even tell him when he was full of crap if need be. Tony made a rueful face in acknowledgement of the non-verbal reprimand.

"Or not." He admitted.

"Your father make you crap in a bucket?" Gibbs wanted to know.

Tony winced. Trust Gibbs to pick up on that detail. Still, it was oddly comforting to know that the ex-marine was paying attention. Looking at the ex-marine's expression, realised he was going to have to say something. And whilst Tony might employ all kinds of tactics to avoid telling Gibbs the truth he had never outright lied to him. He wasn't about to start in order to protect the reputation of a man he had long since lost all respect and affection for.

"He was a Civil War buff. After my Mom died the child psychiatrist told him to try and spend more time with me. Except, his idea of father son bonding was to spend most of his time drinking with his re-enactment buddies, he wouldn't teach me to fight or handle any of the weapons, to his mind the only job I was good for was carrying the bucket around for the other guys. They called me their little poo boy."

Gibbs shook his head in fury and frustration. How could any parent, given the blessed gift of a child's love, act in such a callous and selfish manner? He more than anyone, understood how grief could shatter a person, but if Shannon had been taken and Kelly had been spared, Gibbs couldn't imagine punishing her for her mother's loss.

"Tell me what you want, Tony." Gibbs encouraged softly.

"It's supposed to be something you made." Tony reminded him, not quite sure how to deal with this side of Gibbs.

"So, you tell me what you want," Gibbs smiled gently. "And I'll make it happen."

"_Anything, _I want?" Tony tipped his head on one side, searching Gibbs expressiion for the truth, his eyes dark and speculative at the impossibility of that. "Your mouth shouldn't make promises your checkbook can't keep, Boss."

"One condition," Gibbs held up a finger, noting the way Tony's eyes narrowed fractionally with suspicion, he regarded his Boss thoughtfully for as moment, then his expression smoothed out into a wary acceptance. He was still braced for _something_ Gibbs realised but he trusted him enough to hear him out. "You have to _really _want it."

"A date with Jennifer Lopez." Tony said at once.

"That's a person, not a present," Gibbs corrected. "Pick a gift."

"Anything?" Tony challenged.

"Anything." Gibbs agreed.

"Absolutely anything on this earth?" Tony pressed.

"DiNozzo." Gibbs growled.

"You want to give me some kind of price tag?" Tony asked as he lounged back against the pillows, his eyes dark and speculative at the possibilities as he regarded Gibbs with the kind of predatory gleam that made McGee run for cover and Kate reach for her pepper spray, as if the shaken young man of a few seconds earlier was a lifetime ago. Too easy, Gibbs knew, they weren't out of the woods yet. "This could get expensive. I'd hate to see all your ex-wives go short."

"You let me worry about that."

"O-kay," Tony thought for a moment. Gibbs certainly looked like he was serious. And he was definitely sounding like he meant it. True to form, the Italian couldn't help pushing a little, just to see if he could. "I always wanted a red Ferrari when I was a kid."

To Tony's surprise Gibbs didn't even blink at the audacious suggestion. Instead, he smiled, as he softly shook his head.

"If you had really wanted a Ferrari, you would have shopped at Sears and eaten Kraft dinners until you had saved up enough to afford one. You don't want it as much as you think you do. Not any more."

He had a point, Tony realised. The Ferrari had been his childhood dream, as an adult, his focus had moved onto other things. Just like the desire to play football or basketball professionally was no longer the centre of his universe, or the how he no longer dreamt of being in a rock band. There was only one thing he had really wanted all his life, but he wasn't at all sure what Gibbs would think. And once he has said it, it couldn't be unsaid. It would always be there, between them. Which could be good thing.

Or it could majorally suck.

"You did say, anything, right Boss?" He asked tentatively.


	8. Chapter 8

"Just spit it out, DiNozzo." Gibbs ordered gruffly, knowing the brusque tone would help steady the younger man. DiNozzo had an odd dislike of gentleness as if it was something not to be trusted experience had taught Gibbs that the younger man was far more at ease with straightforward direction.

Sure enough.

"There was this boy in my class," Tony spoke softly. "Every summer his father used to take him on a road trip in this great classic Thunderbird. Niagara Falls, Yellowstone Park, the Grand Canyon. The other kids used to make fun of him because he wasn't going ski-ing in Aspen or vacationing in Europe, but I was always jealous. A great car, iconic movie locations and one-on-one time with his Dad, what more could a kid want?"

Gibbs looked at him with a completely unreadable expression and Tony began to regret ever opening his mouth. This had been a bad idea. A few days R and R was one thing. A vacation like that would take at least a couple of weeks. They'd just spent weeks cooped up in Motel rooms together, as they tracked down Baxter. Gibbs was never going to go for it.

"But if I really wanted to do that, all I needed was to buy a plane ticket and sort out some car rental," He back tracked. "I once spent a week in Vegas when I was best man to one of my frat brothers. Never even saw the Canyon. I'll think of something else, Boss."

"Would have thought that was right up your alley, DiNozzo," Gibbs observed calmly. "Isn't that where they drove off that airstrip in Thelma and Louise?"

Tony looked stupidly at his Boss, almost too side swiped by the fact that the ex-marine had actually quoted a movie reference to answer his question. Blinking once, he recovered his equilibrium rapidly enough to shrug with a passably casual air. "It was a busy week. The guys had other things to do."

"And you didn't want to do it alone." Gibbs observed quietly.

Tony looked at him, with eyes wide and slightly vulnerable but didn't answer. Sometimes, it was kind of comforting that the ex-marine knew him so well. Other times, it scared the hell out of him. Gibbs inwardly sighed, as he plucked the barely touched pizza box from his subordinate's lap. "You need to use the head?"

"No, I'm good." Tony assured him.

In answer, Gibbs located the TV remote and threw it, watching with a quiet pride as Tony easily plucked it one handed out of the air. Satisfied that the Hotel's choice of channels would have something to satisfy the ex-dectective's mercurial attention span he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

"I see any porn on our bill it's going on your credit card." He directed.

When he returned, the flickering screen was showing a crime show in Spanish. With no one to see it, Gibbs gave a soft, proud, smile, as he turned of the set. Few people realised how dedicated DiNozzo really was, almost everything he did, from sports to socialising was designed to hone his skills, make him a better investigator, more fluent undercover, anything that would help catch the bad guys.

"Boss?"

Tony came instantly awake at the absence of sound, one hand reaching for his weapon even as he bolted up to a sitting position.

"Expecting someone else?" Gibbs quirked a brow, at the note of anxiety in his senior field Agent's voice, even as Tony registered his voice and put his weapon aside.

"Force of habit," Tony's light tone didn't quite disguise the shadows in his eyes or the paleness of his expression. "Maybe, if you'd kept your side arm handy your ex-wife wouldn't have put that nine iron to such good use."

"Nightmare?" Gibbs asked, like it wasn't a big deal.

"It happens." Tony answered in kind.

As a LEO nightmares went with the territory and Gibbs was no more infallible in that respect than anyone else who gave a damn. The ex-marine didn't need to know what Tony had actually been dreaming about. Although, judging by the look of compassion in his Boss' eyes, he had probably guessed.

"Here."

Tony snatched the small, paper wrapped missile, out of the air, inhaling the scent of the breakfast burrito, even as his stomach registered the fact that he hadn't eaten nearly enough over the last few days. Gibbs plucked a Styrofoam cup of tea out of the paper bag he was carrying and set it on the side table.

"Thanks, Boss." He acknowledged, warmed by the thoughtful gesture.

"You know you slept through Christmas?" Gibbs asked.

"I did?" Tony looked up from his first, blissful bite of the breakfast burrito, unaccountably dismayed. It wasn't like he expected a fairy tale Christmas but to miss it all together seemed incredibly unfair.

"Spoke to the Director while you were sleeping."

"We have a case, Boss?"

"What we have DiNozzo, is leave. Two weeks leave starting tomorrow."

"We have leave?" Tony blinked. "And you're taking it?"

That got him a look. Tony just shrugged unapologetically. Gibbs almost never took leave. In the two years that he had been working with him Tony knew for a fact that the man hadn't taken a single vacation. The odd day here and there, the occasional weekend, was the most he ever allowed himself. It was as if he would rather do anything than be alone with his own thoughts.

"Some one has to keep an eye on you." Gibbs pointed out.

Tony bit his lip, as he felt his face heat up with embarrassment. Of course, Gibbs would want to keep him on a leash after pulling such a stupid stunt. He flexed his feet experimentally were still sore, but rested enough that he reckoned he could walk on them if he went slow and easy.

"Boss." He swallowed. "You don't have to."

"I know," Giibbs agreed easily. "Happen to think you're worth it."

"I am?" Tony seemed genuinely surprised, which was the only thing in Gibbs book which saved him from a head slap. Looking at Gibbs expression he quickly amended. "Of course, I am if you say so, Boss."

"I say so," Gibbs gave a rare smile as he pulled out two pairs of plane tickets to Las Vegas, together with car hire and hotel reservations and dropped them on the bed. "Merry Christmas, Tony."

"Gibbs," Tony picked up the folder, running his finger almost reverently over the shiny coloured card. From his father this would have meant nothing. Arranged by his PA, paid for by funds he would never even miss, and mostly likely cancelled at the last minute when something more important than his son came up. From Gibbs, who had arranged this all himself, never spent his hard earned money on frivolities and was always as good as his word, it meant everything. "Are you sure you really want ..?"

"You even think about finishing that sentence, Dinozzo and I will slap you silly. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, Boss." Tony nodded fervently.

"Good." Gibbs smiled, a rare, warm, soft, smile, before tapping Tony lightly under the chin with two fingers. A broad, beaming, smile, spread across the former cop's face at the open affection.

"Thank you." He said with total sincerity.

"One of these days, Tony," Gibbs words were both a threat and a promise. "You are going to tell me what is really going on with you."

"Yes sir." Tony acknowledged obediently. He had known for a while now that eventually Gibbs would get the truth out of him. He was almost looking forward to it. But right now, he would be happy to forge the kind of bond that he had never known as a child.

He was beginning to realise that Gibbs would always have his six. No matter how much he screwed up. Or sometimes lost his way, Gibbs would always be there to put him straight, keep him on track, and offer occasional words of praise which were all the more prized for being well earned. That the man would always be there was the best present Tony could ever imagine. And as he looked at the soft, proud, expression, on his Boss' face for the first time, he realised, that he was at least as important to the ex-marine.

"Hey Boss, can I drive? Because you know, if you drive we won't see any of the scenery, it'll just be one big blur."


End file.
